Chapter 170 – Not Enough.

“The guild is pulling a scam again.”

“Be quiet. What if they hear you?”

“But how else do you explain this? Only one person passed, and that guy doesn’t even look strong. I bet he’s all skin and bones under that armor.”

Rusty didn’t turn his head as the whispers continued around him. The moment had come for him to step into the spotlight. He moved forward, the sound of his armored boots pressing into the dead grass surrounding the makeshift arena. The murmuring began to die down. Bets had already been placed, and clearly not many believed he had a real chance at victory.

His opponent, a man named Melville, stood off to the side holding a half-eaten piece of bread. After every fight, he would wander away and grab something to eat. His build was lanky, which didn’t make much sense. With the amount of food he consumed, he should have been much heavier, yet somehow he stayed thin.

“ ( •̀⤙•́ ) “

“I agree. They aren’t taking us very seriously, but that’s a good thing, Gleam.”

His ant companion was perched on his shoulder and jumped to the ground for the time being. This challenge wasn’t only about personal fighting skills, and using tamed monsters was perfectly acceptable. Not everyone excelled at solo combat, which made this test feel somewhat odd. A person specializing in a support class would certainly struggle against a close-range fighter, but perhaps those individuals were undergoing a different kind of assessment. From what he had seen, every participant in the combat test so far had been some type of fighter.

“He has a class that I haven’t seen before…”

While observing from a distance, he decided to take a closer look at the man’s class. Since the man was not currently engaged in combat, he felt confident that no one would notice he was gathering information about his next opponent.

The humanoid inhabitants of this world operated under a different power structure than monsters. Monsters evolved through ranks and changed not only in strength but also in form. A human like the one he was currently facing did not transform outwardly. Their growth occurred internally, and to his knowledge, they couldn’t advance on their own. Instead, they needed some kind of divine artifact or specialized skill, usually found within the temples of this world. Once someone reached a certain level threshold, they could acquire a new class, but they had to visit a temple to complete the process.

What made this even more intriguing was that they had some degree of choice in their progression, something most monsters did not enjoy. Gleam, who was bonded to him through a contract, could also benefit from this system, but was not restricted by it, as recent events showed. Most natural monsters evolved randomly, and creatures like him, who could choose their next form, were exceedingly rare.

Surprisingly, this person’s class was not that of a beast tamer. The monster dog that followed him appeared to be a companion, similar to Gleam. Instead, he was a Martial Artist, a fighter expected to rely on his hands, yet for some reason, he wielded a dull training sword. His body movements were clearly unusual, but having the opportunity to observe him from a distance, Rusty managed to understand the pattern behind them.

Rusty was no longer at E rank, and his senses had sharpened to some degree. Even so, he remained unsure of what the man was hiding, since he had yet to take anyone seriously. From what Rusty knew, there was a structure to how humanoids acquired their classes. The first two class stages were capped at twenty-five levels each. A level twenty-five fighter could then advance to a better class, one considered equivalent in strength to an E rank monster.

While this new class had its own level system, there was also a concept known as cumulative level. For example, a fighter who became a sword fighter and reached the cap of twenty-five levels in both classes would have a cumulative level of fifty. At that point, they could qualify for a more powerful class, one that took both previous classes into account and offered much greater strength.

This was one of the key differences between humans and monsters. There could come a point when a person failed to qualify for a higher-tier class. To keep advancing, they had to meet certain requirements, which could include leveling specific skills to a threshold, earning special titles, or unlocking hidden achievements.

Guild records explained that those who chose easily accessible classes often reached an unbreakable plateau. True advancement required striving for excellence. Choosing the weakest options might allow for rapid early progress, but this approach often trapped adventurers at C rank. Reaching B rank and beyond was much harder, and those who did were considered elite. Their numbers were far smaller compared to the broader adventurer population.

The person Rusty was about to face was in his third class, someone who could be considered nearly a veteran adventurer. Rusty stepped fully into the ring, his halberd resting lightly in his hands. The weight meant nothing to him. Though the weapon looked similar to his previous model, it now had magical circles engraved in several places, containing the enchantment he had gained from his battle with the lightning tiger. One enchantment had been placed on his helmet to protect his core, while the other had been embedded into the weapon itself.

The experience talismans he had received were now fully used, allowing him to reach level two of D-rank instantly. He was finally ready for battle, but his opponent was still not taking the whole thing seriously.

“Let’s get this over with… I’m getting hungry.”

His hair was a mess and he scratched his unshaven chin. As he yawned and slowly walked toward the center of the arena, he gave the impression of someone uninterested and sluggish. Rusty had seen this act nine times before and knew it was nothing more than a ruse. The man always appeared lazy and unimpressive, but he was consistently prepared. He would expose himself to attacks on purpose to manipulate how his opponents fought.

Rusty was not going to fall for it. Before the man could pull the same trick again, Rusty charged forward. He could not use skills like Twilight’s Embrace to boost his stats, but he still had others. Fury, a skill he had absorbed from a monster, was one of them. He combined it with the dash skill to close the distance in an instant. The match had officially begun the moment they stepped into the arena, so it was not considered a cheap shot.

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For the first time, Melville’s eyes widened in genuine surprise as a halberd came hurtling toward his face.

“Woah!”

This time it was not an act. He barely managed to raise his dull sword in time to block. His body reacted on instinct, dodging to the side and parrying the blow. The moment he did, the sheer force behind the strike became clear. His sword trembled under the pressure, and a sharp sound rang out from the clash, followed by an eruption of gasps and shouts from the watching crowd.

The man who looked like an invincible examiner was now being pushed back. The halberd moved forward at strange angles that didn’t match any formal technique. It twisted and danced, as though Rusty was wielding a snake. Melville backpedaled, his half-eaten bread long forgotten on the ground behind him. His relaxed posture was gone. The faintest flicker of amusement at the corner of his lips was replaced with a frown.

“Hey now… h-hold on for a…”

Rusty could still hear him talking while he struck again. The man seemed to be using his voice as a tactic, an intentional effort to provoke the other adventurers and test their composure. It was likely an attempt to see if anger would override their focus. This could have worked on humanoids, but Rusty was not one of them. He was simply living enchanted twilight steel.

Soon, the blade that had been used to parry the heavy halberd strikes shattered into pieces, drawing looks of astonishment from the other adventurers. Although Rusty appeared to be gaining the upper hand, he still could not finish the fight. Even after his opponent lost the blade and Rusty continued attacking, his strikes failed to land cleanly. His opponent was adapting, finding a rhythm, and gradually revealing his true fighting style.

“Not bad. Maybe it’s time I use a quarter of my strength now.”

After dodging several powerful blows, Melville flipped backward, landing several meters away from the clash. Rusty had to stop himself as he neared the edge of the arena. He glanced behind and noticed the examiner inspecting the hilt that remained from the broken practice sword.

“They won’t charge me for this, right?”

The man scratched his head and eventually tossed the loose strands of hair aside. His green shirt was torn in several places, though no blood had been drawn. As he continued speaking about how he was still holding back his true strength, so was Rusty. It was frustrating that he couldn’t unleash his full power against such a powerful opponent, but retreat was not an option. Both men quickly took up battle stances and the fight resumed.